


drawn to you, hands losing their way

by dotdotmoon



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Online Shopping, Slice of Life, a dash of ust but tbf kyungsoo has other things on his mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26843209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotdotmoon/pseuds/dotdotmoon
Summary: Yixing buys underwear online. Kyungsoo doesn't know when his kitchen turned into a dressing room.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	drawn to you, hands losing their way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dreamy_Ideal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamy_Ideal/gifts).



> … surprise? my friend was having yet another small crisis over yixing's recent calvin klein ads, and i thought—kyungsoo deserves that crisis, too. ty friend for the emojis you provided without getting any context: 👓🤩🐣.
> 
> the title are glued together lines stolen from exo’s “touch it”
> 
> extended content notes:  
> \- food mentions all throughout

"I'm not a post office," Kyungsoo says when he opens the door. There's a small tower of packages behind him, delivered at a time Kyungsoo doesn't want to think about.

"I noticed. The service is questionable and you're not wearing a uniform," Yixing replies.

He looks strangely elated for a work day. There's a purple beanie sitting at the back of his head, tucked behind his ears, that makes Kyungsoo wonder if he only did the one half of his hair that's peeking out, looking downy like a newly hatched baby chick.

He walks right past Kyungsoo to the bathroom, and Kyungsoo recalls why he likes him so much. All it took was one conversation for Yixing to understand he didn't like displays of affection happening as a part of social protocols, purely out of habit.

"Maybe I could afford both, if my only customer paid me," Kyungsoo calls after him.

"I'll order you a uniform," Yixing offers when he's joined Kyungsoo in the kitchen, one of the smaller packages under his arm, the glare Kyungsoo tries to fix him with easily dissolving under Yixing’s laughter. "Where did your chairs go?"

"Hm? Gave them away because I bought a couch. The delivery is delayed," Kyungsoo says, turning over a package of enoki mushrooms he'd found at the back of the fridge. He doesn’t trust what he can see, rips the plastic open to find a patch of thick white mould spreading towards the woody end, hidden away below the print of the package. Kyungsoo isn’t sure why he allowed Minseok to rearrange the contents of his fridge; it made sense at the time but he’s been struggling to find anything since, even with the fancy and neatly labelled boxes to optimise space.

When he walks over to the fridge to go through it once more, Yixing’s leaning on the kitchen island that doubles as a table, elbows against the clean wooden surface and chin propped up on the package. Kyungsoo can’t tell if he’s bored or waiting for something but he likes the company, at least until his lunch break is up.

“What are you making?” Yixing asks.

“Lunch,” Kyungsoo says drily before he can catch himself. He’s only talked to a superior today, a conversation that left him on the defense, and Yixing doesn’t deserve lingering stress directed at him. “Sorry,” he adds quickly, ”kimchi fried rice. But it’s not going to be enough for the both of us if I can’t find—”

A shrink-wrapped zucchini pops into existence when he pulls one of the bottom drawers open. Kyungsoo checks the other drawer again, just to make sure, but it remains as empty as he remembers it.

“Got a knife for me?” Yixing interrupts all thoughts about whether his fridge is learning to grow its own vegetables.

Kyungsoo’s not surprised by the change of topic. Yixing often skipped meals until late in the day, and Kyungsoo expressed his worry for him often enough by now to turn the air sour between them at an implication—there was nothing he had to add.

“You’re not using my good knives for this,” he tells him when their eyes meet over the package, and passes him the pair of scissors he keeps by the stove instead, handles first. “When does your shift start?”

“Gave it to Taotao,” Yixing says, expertly slicing through the tape. “He’s short on money this month.”

_And you aren’t?_ Kyungsoo wants to ask. He turns back to the cutting board to prepare the zucchini and green onions, biting down on his bottom lip in frustration. Maybe he could invite him over for lunch or dinner a few more times this month, prepare some meals to pass off as leftovers. There’s little Yixing will let him do for him, insisting he’ll find work as a secretary soon, that the waiting staff job he’s had at an expensive Chinese restaurant for almost two years was only temporary.

“Kyungsoo.”

He turns around reluctantly, only to find Yixing leaning against the kitchen island, in nothing but a pair of briefs, the beanie and sunglasses. Even his socks have come off. “Those briefs are way too small,” he says. They even dig into his thighs, and the broad waistband looks like it’s on a mission to cut Yixing in half.

“What about the colour though?” Yixing asks.

“They’re blue, what about it?”

“Not a favourite then.”

“Are you keeping the sunglasses?” They look nice on him, a simple black frame with round glasses.

Yixing snorts, moves them down the bridge of his nose to give Kyungsoo a lingering look. “No way, these cost more than I make in a day.”

A glance at the wristwatch he set down next to the sink tells Kyungsoo he only has enough time left to eat comfortably if he hurries the cooking. Over freeing the green onions from dried leaves and their roots, Kyungsoo thinks—if it wasn’t almost winter, he’d put the sunglasses on the gift list. If Yixing wasn’t Yixing, he’d just pay for them.

“Kyungsoo,” it comes again.

"No," Kyungsoo says. He pushes his glasses into place with the back of his wrist, readjusts his grip on the knife before he continues slicing the onions. He's come to terms with his boyfriend's packages all landing at his place ever since he started working from home, but he doesn't see why Yixing's treating his kitchen like a dressing room.

"I've seen you multitask before," Yixing says from behind him when he turns on the stove to preheat the pan, the challenge apparent in his tone.

“I’m audio only right now,” Kyungsoo replies. He rushes slicing the zucchini, only spares Yixing and his black briefs with their perfect fit the most fleeting of glances before coating the pan with cooking oil. “Aren’t you cold?”

Between getting the ingredients into the pan and wiping down the counters, he catches sight of Yixing with his back turned to him, pulling on an undershirt, the pink briefs he’s wearing now—he’s supposedly not looking, Kyungsoo remembers.

There’s a brief pause after stirring the kimchi in, and this time, when he looks back, the undershirt is bunched up on the kitchen island while Yixing’s running two fingers along the inside of the waistband of another pair of briefs, peeking out from his jeans.

“Hi,” Yixing says when he sees him looking and sends him a smile that almost lets Kyungsoo forget he still has fried eggs to make. He then casually digs his hands into the pockets so they come to rest a little lower on his hips. Kyungsoo thinks—Yixing doesn’t need sunglasses, he needs a belt. He doesn’t have to look up at his face to know he’s also biting his lip, but he does look, wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Good view?” Yixing dares to ask.

There’s really nothing in his kitchen Kyungsoo would rather look at. “Five star sight,” he admits, and doesn’t know whether to be relieved when Yixing just giggles and leaves him to stew in the heat of the moment.

“So, which ones?” Yixing asks as he’s spooning the fried rice into bowls. He’s sitting on the kitchen island, fully clothed again, not at all disturbed by a lack of other furniture.

“Pink, purple, black,” Kyungsoo lists, passing Yixing their chopsticks. “Return the blue and patterned ones.”

"So you have been looking."

"Respectfully, yes," Kyungsoo says as he settles on the corner of the kitchen island, next to Yixing, putting a bowl in each of their laps on top of small folded towels.

“My favourite,” Yixing tells him with a small sigh, lifting his bowl and moving so close he can throw a leg over Kyungsoo’s thigh. “Three stars. I’ll like you even better once you have a couch in here.”

“I’m not going after that last star,” Kyungsoo points out as good as he can behind one hand covering his full mouth.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> here's the [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aeykeo9Lj00) this is based on but there are also pictures 👀
> 
> i’m… not so sure this is what i wanted it to be—but it is what it is!!
> 
> also, we gotta trust that returned underwear that has been tried on actually lands in the trash like people claim it did.
> 
> thank you for reading, please let me know how it made you feel!!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dotdotmoon) | [cc](http://curiouscat.me/dotdotmoon) | [listography](https://listography.com/dotdotmoon) (up-to-date wip list)


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